“I show every care and concern for children who are related to me,” Miss Bingley snapped back. “It is only that I dislike being left, with no warning, with a child who is no relation of mine, and who does not like me.”
A lump in Elizabeth’s throat.
She would scream at Miss Bingley if she continued this conversation.
And it would be wholly preferable todierather than to cry about Mr. Darcy in front of Miss Bingley.
“It is fortunate,” Elizabeth said curtseying and walking to the door so she could go up to the nursery, “that there are those who are to Emily’s taste. But infants are not discriminating, so you must not take it to heart that she doesnotlike you.”
And yes. She had wanted to show him that,yes,yes,she would have been a good mother to his child.
An act done for its own sake, but it still hurt that he would not see it.
When Elizabeth got up the stairs, there was no one in the hallway. She pressed her head against a cold oak door and settled her nerves.
What juvenile, idiot notion had kept her certain that she would see Darcy again?
She might as well have been convinced thatThe Monkwas an accurate depiction of life in Spain.
When she entered the nursery, and Emily’s cheerful greeting was done, Nell informed her of all the details of their travel plans.
Emily was to be sent in easy stages up to Pemberley. Darcy had written at great length on the care to be taken of her on the road up, which inns they were to stop at, how any milk shereceived was to be boiled first and left to cool, and advice on how to ensure that bread and fruit had no unhealthful components.
“It is as though the gentleman does not believe any of us have ever cared for a child before.”
“The high-handed gentleman,” Elizabeth replied with a smile. “But at least he is sensible in addition to being active.”
And he hadn’t sent any message to Bingley for him to relay toherin his letter.
That hurt as well, even though she had no reason to expect any such message. Even though it would have been unwise and not respectable if he’d sent anything beyond “and send my greetings to our friends the Bennets, and especially to Miss Bennet”.
Nell chattered on as Elizabeth chiefly amused Emily as the nurse made her preparations for the journey the next day.
Elizabeth had by now a good friendship with Emily’s nurse.
She knew all about the woman’s family, how greatly admired Mr. Darcy was in Pemberley, how Nell missed her husband, who was likely to become the butler if the present gentleman, who was nearly seventy, ever retired. She knew about Nell’s older children who were at Pemberley and how she also missed them, even though Nell was delighted to have her position as Emily’s nurse. It was a position of honour within the household, and she received enough money from it to set aside the fee to apprentice her third son to an apothecary. “The boy loves to ask Mr. Spencer questions, he’d do it for the whole day, if he might. He’s always been a curious lad, and liked to read books about medicines, plants and herbs. And to be an apothecary is a respectable profession, almost as good as an attorney.”
Elizabeth had perhaps sought to make friends with Nell because she wished to imagine that she had married Darcy and was becoming Emily’s second mother. Elizabeth knew it was nottrue, and she knew that if she cultivated such imaginations, they would hurt her eventually.
However, as she had discovered repeatedly over the past weeks, her mind and heart were not easily governed.
And now that fantasy was wholly ended.
At the end of the morning Elizabeth kissed Emily, hugged her tightly, and said goodbye.
She did not believe that the girl understood that she would not see Li — her name for Elizabeth — the next day. The girl clearlydidunderstand that she would soon see Papa again.
Elizabeth sobbed alone in the Bingley’s carriage on the way home and stood in the cold for several minutes after she’d been left off, recovering her poise and wiping at her eyes before she entered the house.
A final confirmation — as Bingley continued to say nothing — that Miss Darcy had attempted to elope with a fortune hunter came from Mr. Collins. He wrote to Mama, with whom he kept up a consistent correspondence, about how apoplectic Lady Catherine was, because Miss Darcy had eloped with a Mr. Wickham, the godson of Mr. Darcy’s father. Upon hearing this Elizabeth noted in her mind that Miss Bingley’s theory that it was the steward’s son had been correct.
Lady Catherine blamed this on Mr. Darcy, his obstinate refusal to use good sense, or to ask her for advice on how to manage his sister. Emily’s character would certainly be also ruined by the bad management of children that Mr. Darcy had learned from his father.
It was certainly not the Fitzwilliam side of the family that was to blame in this situation.
After she had read the pertinent parts of this letter to her daughters, Mama said to Elizabeth, “I do believe this proves what I once said to Mr. Darcy, that every child needs a mother. If Miss Darcy had not spent most of her life without one, this neverwould have happened. No girl who had a happy relationship with her mother has ever eloped.”
“I do not believe that is true. What about Miss Smith. You remember when she ran off two years ago?”
